


drifting.

by skullmoss



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-26 13:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15001730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullmoss/pseuds/skullmoss
Summary: he looks at her as though she’s the beginning and the end of the world. (a possible collection of lotura drabbles.)





	1. rift.

**Author's Note:**

> a very quick and messy drabble of a quick and messy couple.

He moves on her with the lithe grace she expects from him. In their ship, their small oasis between points in realities, the vibration of quintessence rattling her to the very core of her being, it all feels…inevitable. And it’s everything she’s wanted, almost painfully so.

He sits in her lap, straddles her, pressing up against her in a way that has her shivering already from anticipation and a building of nerves. The energy around them is overwhelming, clouding the senses in a way that could drive anyone to madness and perhaps the two of them _are_ mad. But she thinks to their work together, the way he felt standing so close to her before they’ve even reached this point, and as Lotor removes his helmet first, then hers, and presses his mouth to her neck and licks a hot, thick line along her jawbone, she knows this is _right_.

There’s elegance to the way he moves against her, even with their armour in the way. It’s something to be rectified, and as one large clawed hand rakes through her hair to loosen the tight twist of her bun, another moves between them to relieve himself of his protective wear down below, a light hiss of decompression as he touches her belt and loosens her armour in turn from her body, pieces falling to the bottom of their ship.

They can’t undress, but the fabric of his undersuit is taught, the sharp outline of his cock pressing hard against her own thickening member below, which writhes and quivers needfully as he rocks up into her. They adjust, switching positions, her own legs wrapping around his waist so he can move against her slit below, and he wraps his arms around her, burying his face into her neck as her own hands catch in his hair, gripping him as they grind together.

“It’s the quintessence…isn’t it?” she gasps, pressing her cheek at the crown of his head as he lets out a low rumbling groan that matches the vibrations of the energy that fills her to her brim.

“No… _no_ Princess, it’s you.” He grabs at her hips, pressing her down more firmly against him, the inside of her suit so slick and wet that it gives a bit as his cock presses up into her fabric, and she shivers looking at him as he looks to her and holds her gaze.

There’s a frightening energy to the way he looks at her, a light glow all around his being that suggests what’s happening is beyond her. But he’s looking at her as though she’s the beginning and the end of the world, and without wanting to think more of it she closes her eyes, brings her mouth to his in a deep kiss, and they remain against each other until they cannot stand it anymore.


	2. together.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she’s the whole to his half.

He’s lived through those ten thousand years as she slept on. Their lives are different, where past meets present with a hope for the future. She’s a glowing beacon of a bygone era, an entity he never dreamt of meeting beyond his fantasies, in hearing the tales of Altea from the fewer and fewer aliens who remember it. He finds the diaspora, brings them together, yet still they’re muddied from years away from their home planet: unpure and needing guidance.

But she doesn’t need to be cultivated. She is sublime, she is pure, she is perfect. Preserved in sleep and naive with a hopeful flame that never seems to go out. When they finally grow close he finds himself hungering for more than what he initially wanted from her. She’s a Princess, his Queen in the making, and each moment, each tick, each varga he knows a perfect peaceful future is within reach. He’ll dismantle the hellish Galra Empire from the inside, bathe the universe with the Altean energy he feels will cleanse his father’s wrongdoing. His blood is sullied, but with her, next to her, inside of her he is pure.

He speaks of their alliance, their coming together, as pure politics. But what he feels for her extends beyond that. Her skin is soft and supple, her mouth warm and yielding to his, and behind the doors of her bedroom and within the confines of her curtained bed, he gives in to these feelings as he supposes she does as well. They fit together like lock and key, the thick wet heat of her ovipositor gliding against his cock as they slide against each other, him finding purchase in her slit just below it when he needs more of her.

Galran men can’t be pregnant. Not in the way Alteans breed, so he lacks the matching set but will make up for it in any way he can for her, and after he comes inside her he has her take him as she would an Altean partner, spread for her with her slick, with his seed. And then they lay together, fingers twining together, gazing heatedly at each other, with an unspoken pact in knowing just how much this union is meant to be, but needs to be kept hidden until the time is right.

He’s lived ten thousand years and has never met anyone like her. Purely Altean, purely good, and the last of a line he thought forever snuffed out. He’s lived ten thousand years and thought he’d never find anyone who would look to him the way she does: as a lover and an equal and something beautiful despite his dirtied half. He thinks she loves him, doesn’t dare to think what emotions he feels for her, because they extend beyond what little he knows of love.

He wants to bleed into her, be as close and inside her warm embrace for as long as he possibly can. He presses against her, cock stirring once more and she laughs when she feels him grow hard against her thigh.

“Again?” she playfully asks, and he laughs, genuine, rolling her back atop him. He wraps his arms around her, slants his mouth against hers, relishing in the way her soft breasts press against the hard, scarred plane of his chest.

“Once more, Princess. I’m not yet finished with you.”


End file.
